At the very end of the village, where the cliff jutted out into the bay with a curve too violent to house anything save the birds, a little open patch of grass was surrounded by a low stone wall. Three benches gave places to sit. Anna chose the one that would let her look back along the entire curve of Crovie, the village’s colours brightening as the early morning sun rose. In front of her was a pole that marked the last of the village’s communal drying lines. At the edge of the sea wall, thick wooden stakes had been cemented directly into the path, and between these were strung lines that, back in the day, would have served to dry the fisherman’s nets, or hold them while they were mended before the season began. Now the lines were clearly used for drying domestic washing when the weather was good enough, because as early as it was, some had sheets and clothes pegged to them. As Anna sat, enjoying the smell of the sea and the lap of the outgoing tide, a figure walked towards her along the path. For one terrible moment she thought it was Douglas McKean, and her heart sank. If it was, there would be no way to avoid him, and Anna did not want to start a new day with another earful from the old man. But as the figure drew closer she saw that it was a woman with white hair that drifted around her lined face like a cloud. She was clearly on a mission, putting one foot in front of the other with determined speed. When she reached the little park where Anna sat, she smiled a brief hello, but didn’t slow. Instead she stretched out one gnarled hand to grasp the washing line support and then walked around it in a tight circle, twice.

‘It’s tradition,’ the woman declared, as round she went, and then pointed at something painted on the pole. ‘See? South Pole. North Pole. Got to go around twice.’

‘Oh, I—’ Anna began, but before she had a chance to say anything else the woman smiled again and marched away, back the way she had come.

Anna looked at the stake and realized that yes, it was painted on one side with the words ‘North Pole’ and on the other ‘South Pole’. Though Anna still didn’t know why it would be necessary to circle either twice.

By the time she turned her gaze back to the wall again, the old woman had vanished. Anna began to walk back herself at a much slower pace, soon passing out of the shadow of the cliffs. The early morning sunlight caught the colours of the flowers in hanging baskets and half barrels set beside doors and windows, their blooms flourishing despite the salt air. Behind one of the houses she saw a raised deck with a beautiful pink rose spilling over the surrounding fence.